It's True Love, Charlie Brown
by thecrazyfanficcer
Summary: And love is in the air exactly one year from the day when Snoopy danced with the little redhaired girl, though this time her partner is different...
1. The Snow Age

Peanuts doesn't belong to me. Nope, this is purely fan fiction, though I must thank Charles M. Schulz for inventing these wonderful, creative characters. (bows and tips hat) Heh heh, now on with the fanfic!

**This is weird, considering the fic is already done, but I actually got reviews! If you reviewed, please read these!**

**Miss Pookamonga: What, they were actually IN character? (gasps and presses hand to throat) Amazing! Right, so her name is supposed to be Heather, as Ri-kun so kindly told me in the other review. It was because I didn't know she had a name, called her Annah, and then didn't change everything properly. Thanks for the review!**

**Ri-kun: OMG! You liked it! You liked it! (begins dancing crazily for a weird yet apparent reason) Yeah, I've seen a lot of Peanuts specials... Oh, and I changed Heather's name. Thanks for reviewing!**

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The noonday sun sent its pure, dazzling rays spiralling toward the snow that lay like a heavy blanket over the peaceful houses of a small town. The snow glistened with an unnatural glow, shining under wintry sunlight. The sky itself seemed to be brightened by the shining sun; it was pure white, and yet not a single rush of cold air plagued two boys who were walking down the snow-bordered sidewalk.

"Well, it's almost Valentine's Day and I haven't gotten a card yet," Charlie Brown complained to his best friend, Linus van Pelt. "It's going to be the same thing as last year," he added glumly.

"Well, Charlie Brown, maybe you'll have better luck this year," the oddly wise, straggly-haired Linus said as they walked around the block, their shoes shuffling through the sparkling white snow. "The problem with you is that you're always unhappy. You have to learn to laugh about life a little, Charlie Brown." As if to illustrate his point, he flicked out the blue security blanket he always carried with him, cracking it like a bullwhip so that a can perched on a nearby fence toppled over to its snow-covered doom.

Charlie kicked a snow pebble, watching it fly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But still…"


	2. Love is in the Air

When Charlie got home, he found his peppy dog, Snoopy, sitting on top of his red-roofed doghouse, typewriter in front of him as usual. This was the dog who had danced with his crush, the nameless little red-haired girl at the Valentine's party. Now that the big day was approaching again, Charlie expected Snoopy to be gloating that he'd gotten fifteen cards as opposed to his none, but in fact he was there, sitting at his typewriter, white beagle paws clicking away, as he so often was at any normal time of the year.

Snoopy, finishing his piece, pressed the enter button on his typewriter, followed by the familiar dinging sound, and ripped the sheet out. He handed it to his master, who took the sheet and read it.

" ' He looked ahead. "Your eyes are as blue as the cloud-strewn sky on a midsummer's evening," he said as they galloped together. Gallop, gallop, gallop.

" ' She swung to face him. "I love you more than a new bowl of dog food," she whispered and...' Snoopy! What are you writing!" Charlie cried, flinging the page into the air. "You've caught it, too?"

His dog looked back at him coolly. Then he made a gagging sound and started typing anew. Though, in most cases, Charlie would have read this new sheet Snoopy was typing, he pivoted on his heel and, disgusted, stalked off into the house, the door slamming behind him.

Had his dog caught the Valentine's bug too? Usually Snoopy was who he was, meaning that when he wrote his mediocre writing, it was usually about cowboys, horses, something like that, though Charlie had the none-too-distinct feeling that his dog (his overintelligent dog, for crying out loud) was in a Valentine's kind of mood this seventh of February.

Charlie kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket upon entering the house, making his way over to where his yellow-haired younger sister, Sally, was, sitting at the kiddy table with a sheet of plain white paper in between her hands. She was drawing something on the paper with a red crayon, and as Charlie neared her he had a feeling he knew just what it was.

"I'm drawing a card for Linus," Sally said, love in her eyes as he came near. She held up the sheet she had been drawing, where a big red heart was outlined in pink. Sally put the sheet back down and continued drawing. "This will be the year he'll finally realize he is my sweet baboon."

Charlie sighed. This was going to be a long night.

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"For the last time, I am not your sweet baboon!" a furious Linus van Pelt cried out the next day, trying to shake himself free of the blond Sally Brown. But she grabbed his red striped shirt, proceeding to follow him all the way around the school's dazzling-bright hallways to his classroom, where he finally managed to push her away; it seemed to Linus that the hearts were still shining in her eyes.

Linus shook his head at the same time as his best friend, Charlie Brown, came up, holding his books in front of his yellow shirt as usual. "Tell your sister I am not her sweet baboon," Linus growled, tightening his grip on his own books as the two of them made their way into the classroom, the crowd of students pressing in on all sides.

"She won't learn," Charlie replied, edging past a boy named Franklin to his normal post by the pencil sharpener. "Not unless you actually prove to her that the Great Pumpkin exists."

"The Great Pumpkin does exist," muttered Linus, following Charlie to his own seat. "But after what happened last year, she won't come with me again, even if the Great Pumpkin does show up at the pumpkin patch this year."

"So, maybe you should just tell her you don't like her," Charlie replied, now acting like Linus in his own right. At this point, the teacher had begun talking and Charlie gave a start as she turned on him.

"No, ma'am, I don't want to go to the principal's office," he said in answer to the teacher's question. "That was close," he whispered to Linus a few seconds later, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Okay," Charlie answered suddenly as the teacher rounded on him again, his legs shaking. "I'll go to the principal's office." He slowly pushed himself out of the chair and walked all the way to the classroom door, where, trembling with fear, he bolted down the hallway, his brown shoes clattering on the polished tiles.


	3. C'est la Vie, mon Ami

"Who are you going to send valentines to this year, Lucy?" Violet, a black-haired girl asked, tying up her hair into its customary bun that recess as she and Lucy walked over to a group of talking girls in the center of the playground.

"Well, I won't give one to that blockhead Charlie Brown, that's for sure," Lucy van Pelt, Linus's older sister replied vehemently, fishing through a bag that was slung over her shoulder. "He always hesitates when I ask him if I'm beautiful."

As they neared the group, the others shifted slightly to accept them. They were all talking about the upcoming holiday; who they were going to give cards to seemed be _prior dominus_. "I'm only giving valentines to boys who notice my naturally curly hair," Freda, a frizzy-haired girl, said haughtily, patting her mass of red-golden curls.

"Well, I'm going to give one to Schroeder," Lucy declared. "Maybe for once he'll actually notice me instead of Beethoven for once. I mean, Beethoven never even got his picture on bubble gum cards."

"I know who I'm going to give one to," Heather, a freckled red-haired girl, added softly. "But I can't tell you. I don't know his name."

"Well, what does he look like?" Violet suggested. "Maybe you could describe him to us."

"He doesn't have much hair, and he wears a yellow shirt with jagged stripes. He sits in the last row, near the pencil sharpener," Heather reminisced thoughtfully, her tongue sticking out slightly.

"What? You mean Chuck?" Peppermint Patty, a boyish girl with freckles gasped. Her normally straight brown hair went straight up, as if she'd been electrified. "Remember what happened last year, Marcy?"

"I do, sir." Marcy, Patty's best friend, agreed, nodding adjusting her round glasses. "I came all across the street to his house to ask him if he liked me, and all he said was, 'What?' I was so unhappy after that."

Patty seemed surprised. "What I meant was the time he invited us to his house for Thanksgiving and all he had was popcorn and jellybeans," she said, then shook her head. "Well, the point is, just don't give him a valentine, Heather. It's not right."

"He's a blockhead!" shouted Lucy, and Violet nodded her agreement.

"Yeah! Remember what happened when he tried to direct the Christmas play?" she added furiously.

"Well, I think he's cute," Heather simply as she shrugged, a passive smile on her freckled face.

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"The little red-haired girl is coming," Charlie said from his perch on the bench next to the principal's office, craning his neck as he saw Heather approaching. "Wouldn't it be something if she came down and sat next to me? And wouldn't it be something if she said she loved me and gave a big hug?" He was excited, as he always was when the red-haired girl came along, and at this point he almost jumped for joy.

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Heather observed the golden heart-shaped locket in her hand. She thought it had come from that boy, Charlie Brown (Her cheeks grew warm just thinking about it); they'd been in class and, right before he had gone down to the office, she had noticed it fall off his chair. She didn't know what a boy would be doing with a heart-shaped locket, but she had to give it to him.

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Charlie Brown's heart was beating a wild tattoo against his chest. Sure enough, Heather was coming over to him (he could remember her name now) and he stood up in anticipation. Finally Heather stopped in front of him and he could suddenly feel the flush creeping over his face as they faced each other.

"I found this," Heather said, extending her had, the golden locket glinting from her palm. "I think it's yours." He suddenly noticed how much her freckles stood out when she was blushing.

"T-thanks," Charlie stuttered, accepting it and putting it in the back pocket of his shorts. "I-I--"

They were leaning closer together, their blushes obvious now, and it seemed that they were about to finally make contact, when-

Judging by the shadow that was cast over their faces, the principal was back from whatever work he had been doing and was not happy. He explained to them what he wanted them to do, and nervousness replacing their embarrassment, they ran off to class, two multicoloured streaks in the nonexistent breeze.


	4. This is it

And, no, Peanuts and all other related materials, indicia, and characters do not belong to me. That said, I disperse into the wonderful realm of fan fiction. :-)

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It was the night of Valentine's Day and Charlie Brown had finally awoken to find a Valentines card in his mailbox. Snoopy had seemed surprised that he'd actually gotten one for once, and, thinking it was a fake, had laughed in his face. But as it was, the card was from Heather. Having convinced him of that, Snoopy had tossed his head and gone off to cart out his wheelbarrow of valentines cards. Charlie, at this point on, was pacing restlessly in Lucy's house, which was decked with pink and red streamers for the occasion. The guests were streaming by, talking and laughing under the crepe paper, but Heather was not among them. Charlie's fist tightened around her present, hidden in his pocket; somehow, just by letting his fingers pass over its smooth surface gave him strength. He allowed a sigh to escape his lips and looked up.

In a corner, Lucy, the hostess, was perched on the edge of Schroeder's portable piano in a vain effort to get him to finally notice her.

"Are you going to give me a Valentine, Schroeder?" Lucy asked him, her face wreathed in a grin.

Schroeder continued playing in response, though the strains of "Linus and Lucy" had become unmistakably louder. "I won't and never will," he muttered through the sound of music.

Sally had taken to following Linus around his house; the older boy was frantically trying to push her away with his blue security blanket. In another corner of the room, Marcy was dancing with Franklin while Peppermint Patty was dancing with Pigpen, an unusually dirty boy; clouds of dust rose wherever he went. Freda found it repulsive, annoying, and rude: according to her, it messed up her naturally curly hair.

Heather hadn't arrived yet, and Charlie fingered the gold necklace in the pocket of his tuxedo as he paced, his eyes wide and fearful. "What if she doesn't come? What if she doesn't like me? What if…"

His voice was lost on the nighttime breeze as the door suddenly swung open and Heather stood in the doorway, her soft features highlighted with moonlight. Charlie spun around. She was dressed in the same short lime-green dress she'd been wearing last year. Honestly hoping he'd get her before Snoopy did, Charlie stepped forward.

"Heather… I got this for you," Charlie said, his voice soft as he, blushing, extended his locket out to her and hoping his embarrassment didn't show in his voice.

A faint smile flickering around her lips, Heather accepted the gift and clicked open the locket. A picture of Charlie himself had been pasted inside, complete with bouquet of roses and heart-shaped box of chocolate, right next to a picture of her. Heather smiled to herself and snapped it around her neck before offering her own gift to him, a small sapphire-coloured stone hung on a silver chain.

"T-thanks," Charlie said, looking up at Heather. He felt his face flush and he fumbled with the silver chain of his new necklace.

As the two of them blushed in perfect unison, a sudden thought struck them both. Flushing furiously now, yet oblivious to the stares that surrounded them, they leaned their heads together. As their lips touched for the first time, a single thought struck Charlie:

It's true love, Charlie Brown.

Then again, maybe it was just Linus, shouting at him from across the hallway as he peered over at the love in the air. Talk about Valentine's Day romance, eh?


End file.
